


Family Reunion

by Baroness_Blixen



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Memory Loss, So many tropes, fake married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2019-01-06 02:41:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12202251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baroness_Blixen/pseuds/Baroness_Blixen
Summary: Mulder accompanies Scully to a family reunion. Things don't go according to plan.





	Family Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a Fic Contest on tumblr.

There is no reason for Mulder to attend the big Scully reunion of 1998 except that one Scully wants him there. His Scully. When she asked him to join her, his first instinct was to say no. He almost did utter that word. One look at her pleading eyes and the way her upper lip stuck partly to her teeth and he knew he couldn’t do it. With a nod he sealed his fate.

Two weeks later and he finds himself in the car with her at the steering wheel. That she’s gripping way too tightly. He tries to come up with the right words to make her relax but his mind is empty. What does he know about family reunions anyway? Not one thing. From what he’s heard, the family clan is huge, which shouldn’t surprise him. Scully assured him that there wouldn’t be more than 20 or 30 people. The way she says it makes it sound like a small party. Mulder is not sure he’s met that many members of his family in all his life.

“It’s just going to be us and mom tonight.” Scully cuts into their comfortable silence and Mulder’s thoughts.

“That’s nice.” Mulder replies and means it. He loves Scully’s mother and he hopes she likes him, too. At least a little bit. Bill, of course, hates him – not that Mulder can really blame him for that. Melissa, bless her soul, found him strange. Again, no objections from him. For the rest of the Scullys he is a blank slate. Or not. He has no idea what Scully has told her family about him. He glances over at her quickly. For all he knows, they’re all like Bill. Hating on him for two whole days. This is going to be so much fun, he thinks, embracing his impending misery.

“Mom hired a caterer – can you believe that?” Mulder sincerely hopes it’s a rhetorical question. This is his first time attending so how is he supposed to answer this? Her family is not something Scully talks about. She mentions her mother frequently; telling him how she talked to her on the phone or that they met for lunch. Once in a while she grumbles about Bill or how Charlie never calls her back. But that’s it. That’s all he knows. Her high-strung mood prevents him from voicing any of his thoughts.

“A caterer is good.” He answers when the silence feels no longer comfortable. Just in case she expected a reply. Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees her nod. So far, so good. Mulder reminds himself why he is here: for Scully. This weekend, even if she didn’t use these exact words, he is going to be whatever she wants him to be. He is going to be there 110% for her without a single complaint. He can do this, he assures himself, and he owes her. For all the crap he’s pulled on her in the past. She didn’t tell him why she wants him with her, and he didn’t ask. They don’t talk about that, no, no. Shove it under the rug, throw the rug out and never, ever talk about why we do this, don’t say that. 

“It’s just not… she likes to do things herself.” Scully goes on, worrying her lips. Mulder is inclined to say he knows someone like that, too.

“It’ll be fine, Scully.” He wonders what she’d do if he reached over and took her hand in his. Afraid she’d crash the car, he leaves his hand on his own thigh. They’re almost there anyway.

“I hope you’re right.” She mumbles and then they fall back into silence for the rest of the drive.

Mrs. Scully is outside when they arrive. She’s waving at them, a grin on her face.

“Fox! I’m so glad you could make it.” She engulfs him in a tight hug that leaves him breathless.

“Thanks.” He croaks out and she lets go of him to hug her daughter. Mulder feels a wave of love wash over him as he watches them. Mother and daughter smile at each other when they let go. If Mulder could frame this moment, he knows he would. Mrs. Scully tugs a strand of hair behind her daughter’s ear.

“How are you, sweetheart?”

“I’m good, mom. I really am.”

“I’m glad.” She kisses Scully’s cheek before she turns back to Mulder, who is grinning at the two women. He can’t help himself.

“Fox, you’ll be sleeping on the couch in the living room,” having made sure that her daughter is fine, she is all business, “I hope that’s all right with you. Dana tells me you’re used to it.” Mulder sees Scully blush and can’t help but wonder how often they talk about him. The question almost leaves his mouth unasked. He clears his throat instead and nods.

“That’s perfectly fine, Mrs. Scully.”

“Unless you two-”

“No!” Scully interjects, her face almost as crimson as her hair. Mrs. Scully holds up her hands defensively. She seems not at all embarrassed by this situation or her question. Mulder, too, feels warmth spread into his face.

“All right, honey. I was just saying. Your relatives will presume, you know.”

“Mom.” Mulder has never heard Scully’s voice this high. This embarrassed. This, he decides, must be the Dana he hardly knows. He knows tough as nails Scully. Dana? He’s heard of her, has seen glimpses of her. Maybe this weekend they’ll get better acquainted at last.

“I’m sorry, honey,” Mrs. Scully touches her daughter’s arm and takes his hand; Mulder didn’t even notice they were all standing so close. Scully, and he too most likely, looks like she’s just been caught making out in the backseat of her parents’ car. “A mother just wonders.” She winks at him. She winks! At him! Mulder swallows hard before he follows the two women inside.

He has been to Mrs. Scully’s only a few times and none of these occasions were happy. Scully turns to him as if reading his thoughts. There is a warm smile on her face, welcoming him to her mother’s home and this part of her life. She wants him here. With her. Feelings threaten to overwhelm him. How is he supposed to make it through two whole days without completely spilling his guts to her? 

“I’ll take my suitcase upstairs. You’ll be okay with my mom for twenty minutes?”

“Of course, Scully. Take your time.”

When she returns ten minutes later she has shed her Scully persona. Mulder’s gaze lingers a moment longer on her tight-fitting shirt and the V-neck where her cross glitters golden. He wills his eyes to stay on that little talisman and not move downwards where he can hint at her breasts. He looks up and finds her eyes; she is not angry, merely amused, and so he grins at her sheepishly. This weekend, she seems to tell him without words, he’s allowed to be so much more than just her partner. And Mulder is ready. 

*

Mrs. Scully, Mulder finds, chatters a lot. Not that he minds; he loves it. He listens attentively, nods a few times when it seems fitting. He couldn’t talk even if he wanted to. His mouth is full of Mrs. Scully’s delicious meat loaf. Scully complained that her mother shouldn’t have gone through all this trouble just for them. They are used to cheap diner food and not really picky. Secretly though Mulder is glad Mrs. Scully didn’t listen to her daughter. This is the best meal he’s had in a long time.

“Leave room for dessert, Fox.” Scully’s mother smiles warmly at him. If he didn’t know better, he’d say this was a dream. How did he get this lucky? He is pretty sure Scully brought him here as a form of punishment. He’s ditched her one too many times and now he’s got to pay. So far it feels like a vacation, though. Then he thinks of Bill and almost forgets to chew before swallowing.

“This is really good, Mrs. Scully.”

“Fox, please. Just for this weekend could you call me Maggie?” This time he stops mid-chew. He looks ridiculous with his mouth half open and a piece of meat threatening to fall out. There’s a kick against his shin under the table and Mulder remembers to chew, swallow and nod. Maggie. It has to be a dream, because reality has never treated him this well.

They decide to eat dessert in front of the TV, all three of them feeling the need to get more comfortable. An old black and white movie flickers on the screen eliciting smiles and giggles from the two women. Scully is leaning heavily against her mother and Mulder knows it’s a clear sign she’s going to fall asleep soon.

“Dana, I think it’s time for bed.” Her mother says softly. A sense of longing captures him. When was the last time anyone has cared for him like that? Except Scully, that is. His own mother has always tried to be there for him, even through her own grief, but her demons had always kept a tight leash on her, dragging her further and further away from her son.

“Hm? Time is it?” Scully mumbles without opening her eyes.

“Bed time.” Mulder whispers and he and Mrs. Scully share a grin. Scully’s eyes pop open. She yawns, stretches and sits upright. Her eyes, however, look ready to close again.

“Go to bed, Dana. Tomorrow is going to be a long day. Fox, you’ve got the living room all to yourself. I’ll make sure my daughter finds her way upstairs. Good night.”

“Very funny, mom.” Scully yawns but she smiles. “Good night, Mulder.”

“Good night, Scully, Mrs. Scully.”

“Fox…”

“Ah, sorry. Good night, Maggie.” She nods at him and squeezes his hand before she and Scully go upstairs. He hears them talk in hushed tones until they’re too far away for him to listen. He grabs the covers Mrs. Scully left for him on the couch and a pillow. Just like at home, he thinks. But it isn’t. He isn’t alone here in this house. There are people who care for him. He relaxes into the soft cushion, lets his thoughts drift and his eyes close. It’s still early, but his stomach is full, his soul at ease. Sleep tugs at him and he lets himself be led away into the land of dreams.

The next time Mulder opens his eyes, the TV screen blinks furiously at him. He searches for the remote control and switches it off. A glance at his watch tells him it’s 7 am and he sighs. He hardly sleeps this long, or this well. He gets up and makes his way to the bathroom in the quiet house. There’s a clock ticking steadily somewhere. The sound calms him. His bladder relieved, Mulder wanders into the kitchen. There’s some leftover meat loaf winking at him but he ignores it. Instead he opts for a glass of water. He drinks slowly, revels in the cold, clear taste. His eyes wander about Mrs. Scully’s kitchen. There are little knickknacks everywhere. Something catches his eye on top of a shelf. He puts his glass down to inspect it. Craning his neck, he wonders how Mrs. Scully manages to put anything atop these cabinets by herself. His hand reaches out and only his fingertips brush against it. He huffs in frustration. A chair! Quickly Mulder takes one of the kitchen chairs and steps on it. It creaks under his weight, but Mulder trusts its strength.

“Is that-” That’s as far as he gets. The creaking under him gets louder, there’s a pop, a crackle and Mulder, his arms outstretched into the air, comes tumbling down. His last thought is that he needs to tell Scully, needs to ask Scully if she knew about this. Scully. That’s his last thought.

*

“Dana! Dana, come quick!” Mrs. Scully dances around an unconscious Mulder on the kitchen floor as if it were the cure to wake him up. He, however, doesn’t move. Scully emerges in her pajamas, her hair tousled, sleep still in her eyes. Her first thought as she sees Mulder lying on the ground is that he’s simply asleep. He’s slept worse places, mom. But her mother really doesn’t need to know that. Then she sees the blood on his head and one, two, three, she is Dr. Scully, ready to roll.

“Mulder? Mulder, can you hear me?” His heartbeat is steady. His breathing is normal. She slaps his cheek, gently. She slaps it again, less gently. Mulder makes a noise and a moment later groans.

“Mulder, wake up.” Scully tells him insistently as her hands run through his hair, around his head, to find the wound. It’s a small one that she’ll be able to take care of herself. If he doesn’t wake up, though, they’ll need to call an ambulance. Why is it that Mulder always ends up in an ER? Just for that she wants to slap him again. Hard. As if listening to her inner monologue, Mulder finally opens his eyes.

“Hey there.” He croaks out with half-hooded eyes, grinning like a champion.

“Mulder, what happened?”

“Huh?”

“You’re on the floor, Fox. In the kitchen.” He lifts his head, groans again, and Scully helps him sit up. She watches him stare at her mother, then back at her. There is warmth in his expression she doesn’t often see. It unnerves her, especially in a situation like this.

“What time is it?” He asks.

“What time is it? Mulder, you were unconscious on the kitchen floor!”

“I went to get a glass of water,” he says as if to himself, “that’s all I remember, Scully. What happened to this chair?” Mulder points at the wooden remnants, scattered around the floor.

“I guess this is how you hurt yourself.” Scully blushes when she realizes that she’s still got her hand in his hair, smoothing it down. The wound no longer bleeds; there’s minimal damage. At least from the outside. They will have to get his head scanned. Oh Mulder, why, she thinks, sighing heavily.

“I’m sorry, Scully.” Mulder takes her hand in his and to her greatest surprise, and horror, he lifts it up and kisses her knuckles one by one.

“Uhm…”

“I know how much you were looking forward to this day and here I am screwing everything up again as always.”

“Oh don’t be silly, Fox.” Scully watches her mother put a wet cloth on Mulder’s head. She herself didn’t even think of that. Her hand still tingles with the feel of Mulder’s lips. “Does your head hurt very badly?”

“No, actually,” he looks at Scully, “I don’t have to be checked out at the hospital, do I?” Scully nods. “But I feel fine! I do, Scully! This wouldn’t be my first concussion. You know that.” He is right about that, she thinks.

“Mulder, we have no idea how long you were down. You could have internal bleeding, you could have an aneurysm – you have to go to the hospital.” He pouts at her.

“Really, Scully? Can’t you just closely monitor me here?” She is tempted to say yes. His eyes are clear, the wound barely there. He didn’t fall that far. The risk, though, is just too great.

“Come on. The sooner we leave, the sooner we’ll be back.” She helps him up and he moans in pain, holding his back.

“Oh dear.” Mrs. Scully mumbles. “Do you need me to come with you?”

“We’ll be fine, mom. This is not our first trip to the ER. You have enough on your hands with Tara and Bill coming soon.” Mulder winces. He better feel sorry, Scully thinks.

“Scully, I can go by myself.”

“No way, Mulder. Come on, I need to get dressed.” She doesn’t care that he’s still wearing yesterday’s clothes. He can change once they’re back. Shave, too.

“I don’t need my wife holding my hand, Scully. You stay here.”

“What?” Scully turns to him, her eyes wide, her mouth forming an O.

“What?” Her mother echoes, her expression similar.

“What?” Mulder chimes in as if calling Scully his wife were an everyday occurrence. Both women stare at him and Scully feels her mother glance at her. Out of the corner of her eyes she sees her trying to suppress a grin.

“Mulder! We’re not married.” Scully tries to keep the shrieking to a minimum. It’s hard. Mulder likes to kid around in the worst situations imaginable. Except he doesn’t look like he’s trying to be funny. She watches in slow motion as her words wipe the smile off his face. Confusion settles there, then hurt. How hard did he hit his head?

“Of course we are,” he glances over at Maggie, who continues to stare at her daughter, “Scully? We are married, right?” He absent-mindedly rubs his head.

“Yes, of course, Fox,” Dana turns to her mother mouthing ‘what are you doing’, but her mother is smiling, “Dana is just tired and concerned, you know.” Mulder nods, looks at Scully and throws her a look that seems to say your mother is right. Nothing about this right. Maybe she is dreaming. Maybe she is the one who hurt her head, not Mulder.

“I’m just gonna, uhm-” Mulder makes strange hand gestures and leaves the kitchen on unsteady feet. Scully almost follows him but thinks better of it. If he doesn’t return in five minutes, she’ll check up on him. First she needs to have a talk with her mother.

“Mom! Why did you let Mulder believe we’re married?”

“Oh Dana, he’s hurt. What’s the harm in it? I think it’s cute.”

“Cute, mom? He might have major head trauma. Nothing about this is cute.”

“So go and have him checked out, Dana. I’m sure it’s just a bump on the head and you know, this might work out well for you.”

“What do you mean?” Scully leaves the kitchen to rummage around her coat for her car keys. She needs to get changed, brush her teeth and her hair. Her only concern at the moment though is taking Mulder to the hospital. It’s still early. If they’re lucky, and other people weren’t as clumsy as Mulder, they might not have to wait long.

“Dana, you hate it when everyone asks you about your private life.”

“And?” She is half listening; she is trying at least. Where is that damn car key? I need to get dressed, she thinks, and Mulder needs to come out of the bathroom. Her mind is going eighty miles an hour and she wishes Mulder had stayed home. Then again, no. What if he’d hurt himself while she was here? No. It’s better this way. She finds her car keys, finally, under a half eaten Snickers. Mulder must have put it into her coat.

“Just go along with it. Fox already thinks you’re married – no need to convince him! Don’t you think it will be easier to tell people you’re married than to break poor Fox’s heart?”

“You’re not serious, mom.”

“Why not?” Her mother crosses her arm in front of her chest and Scully is taken aback; it’s like looking into a mirror.

“Mom, it’s a lie!”

“Ah, but it’s a good lie, Dana. A tiny, white lie that’s not going to hurt anyone. Have some fun every once in a while.” Her mother winks at her and leaves her standing there. Fun, she thinks. She doesn’t remember the last time she had fun. She does, however, remember the last time she went to a funeral. That word has fun in it. She shakes her head, tells herself to get a grip. Have Mulder checked out and then decide how to proceed.

“This cannot be real,” she mumbles, “Mulder! Are you done yet? If you don’t answer me I’ll come in.” Please answer, she pleads, please answer. She hears the flush of the toilet, running water and then Mulder steps out. Looking less than stellar.

“Everything hurts, Scully. Everything.”

So much for fun.

*

By the time Mulder and Scully return, the party is in full swing. They were, of course, not lucky in the ER. A spiked bowl at a local school the night before resulted in several teenagers being sick and in need of care. A bake sale gone wrong brought in more people puking their guts out. Mulder’s head injury, it turned out, was no emergency. Nothing serious, the doctor assured her and Mulder gave her a I-told-you-so-look that made her roll her eyes. While Mulder was getting dressed, she asked the doctor about his mixed up memories. As if the doctor and her mother were in cahoots together, he told her to just play along. It would resolve itself. If not, and he stressed how unlikely that case was, she should come back the next day. She thanked him, albeit grudgingly, and took Mulder back to her mother’s.

“You smell like puke!” One of the small children yells at her when they step inside the house. She doesn’t recognize the boy, but his red hair and his freckled face scream Scully at her. The boy wrinkles his nose and stomps off again.

“He’s right.” Mulder agrees and then sniffs his own clothes. “I smell, too. What do you say? A nice, hot shower? Together?” His face is much too close, his grin way too sincere, and Scully knew this wasn’t a good idea. She searches for the right words, anything to distract Mulder from this particular idea. A wonderful idea. A very tempting idea, but she can’t possibly-

“Dana, there you are!” Her sister-in-law Tara, holding a sleepy Matthew, walks towards them with a huge grin on her face. Unlike her, Tara is dressed in a beautiful sundress; her hair is tidy and clean. She doesn’t smell like vomit.

“Hey Tara. I’m sorry, Mulder and I were at the hospital.”

“Mom told me. Hello, Mr. Mulder. Can I call you Fox? Maggie calls you Fox.”

“He prefers Mulder.” Scully answers for him and he nods sheepishly. He makes faces at Matthew who giggles into his mother’s shoulder.

“All right then, Mulder. How are you feeling?”

“I’m good. It’s just a bump on the head. I do need a shower, though,” he looks at Tara apologetically before he turns to Scully, “As does she. Would you excuse us for another twenty minutes or so? Dana has been looking forward to this day and I don’t want her have to face everyone smelling like… this.”

“Mulder…” He puts his arm around her and Scully startles. Tara is unfazed by the whole scene.

“Oh you haven’t missed anything yet. Bill has been asking for you, though. I’ll make sure he behaves.” She says with a small nod at Mulder. “So go on, get ready before uncle Henry finds you, Dana. You know how he is.”

“Thank you, Tara.” Scully says truthfully. She tugs at Mulder’s hand and he follows her upstairs like a puppy. He doesn’t let go of her hand and Scully thinks back to what Tara and her perfect timing interrupted. 

“So a shower, huh?” Mulder starts kissing her neck. Mulder’s lips are on her, moving over her skin. His hands land on her hips holding her in place. As if she could move anywhere right now. Her first instinct is to stop this. She has to stop this. Doesn’t she? But her thought is drowned out by the tingling feeling on her skin, prickling with excitement. When she opens her mouth to tell Mulder to stop, a moan escapes.

“Hmmm, this is nice, isn’t it?” Mulder mumbles against her skin as his lips travel upwards. He kisses her chin, lets his tongue slip out at the corner of her mouth before he licks her lips. And that’s when she snaps back to reality. The moment when she knows she has to stop. Right. Now.

“Mulder, no.” She pushes him away, but he is big and heavy and won’t budge.

“Why not?” There’s that pout again. She doesn’t want to argue with his pout. Not on a weekend when she’s supposed to spend some quality time with her family. To which he belongs as well. She invited him here after all. And yes, she hoped they’d spend some quality time together. Get closer, maybe. Just maybe not this close, this fast.

“We don’t have time,” she lies, “and it’s not good for your head.” Mulder just stares at her. His hands are still on her hips, or they sneaked back, and he rubs his thumbs softly against her. It feels incredible. But she’s got to stay focused here.

“Your back, Mulder,” Scully says for once feeling happy that Mulder is indeed in pain and that’s the magic word; he moves away from her, “Does it still hurt much?” He nods pathetically.

“Kiss it better?” His pout is replaced with a sly grin and Scully rolls her eyes. Never change, Mulder, she thinks as she softly kisses his cheek. Never, ever change.

*

25 minutes later both Mulder and Scully look somewhat decent – and they no longer smell like vomit or disinfectant. Auburn-haired children and adults are found in every corner of the house. Mulder turns into Scully’s shadow, follows her every move as if afraid to be left alone with these strangers that bear the slightest resemblance to her.

“Oh there she is,” a sing-song voice exclaims, “Dana, my dear!” Scully stops and Mulder crashes into her. He mumbles a sorry, but remains with his chest tightly pressed against her back.

“Aunt Lily, hi,” the woman, who is actually a great-aunt, leans over and kisses both her cheeks, “how are you?” Behind her Mulder crinkles his nose in an attempt not to sneeze. Scully recognizes the sound. She considers kicking his chin, but then he puts his hand on her arms and she forgets ever wanting to hurt him.

“Oh you know, honey. I’m not getting younger, am I!” Her voice is loud, boisterous as always. As a child, Scully thought that one day Melissa would grow into the exact same woman their aunt Lily was. Strong, opinionated, full of love and life. Her hair, now sprinkled gray from where she must have forgotten to dye it, is long and wavy, just like Melissa’s used to be and Scully feels the familiar longing these reunions cause. All that’s left of Melissa now are stories, a picture on the mantle. A frozen smile that can’t participate in this. Can’t marvel at the various children, tickle them, and tell them how much they’ve grown.

“But how are you, darling? Your mother said something about an accident!”

“That was me, actually. Fox Mulder, ma'am.” One of his hands leaves her arm to shake her aunt’s hand. Her eyes grow big in curious amusement.

“You, huh? You look all right to me,” she laughs and Mulder joins in, sounding charmingly, “What happened, my dear?”

“Oh nothing, just a bump on the head. But since my wife is a medical doctor, she wanted to make sure it’s nothing major.” Aunt Lily’s eyes look ready to pop out and fall in front of their feet. She takes a deep, deep breath and then she explodes into a symphony of joyful sounds.

“Finally! Oh Dana, why didn’t you say anything!” She hugs Dana, accidentally scratching Mulder’s chest, and then she hugs him, too. All the while spewing words of excitement at them. If only Mulder had not said anything, Scully thinks as she sees more and more guests flock towards them. She sees cousins she hasn’t seen in ages. Children she’s never met. Uncles and aunts who remember her better than she could ever remember them. They nod at her and she nods, too, unsure of what to do. They circle her and Mulder now like prey.

“You have to tell us everything!” Someone says.

“Was it a big wedding?” Another voice wants to know.

“What did you wear, Dana? Do you have pictures?” Now it’s Scully who needs Mulder’s closeness. She grabs his hand and squeezes it. He squeezes back. His universal reply that he’s got her back, no matter what.

“I need something to drink,” she tells them all, her face feeling hot and flushed, “Uhm, maybe Mulder can answer your questions.” He nods enthusiastically and several people gather around him as if he were a master storyteller. He does tell good stories, Scully thinks as she takes a deep breath, feeling less confined. She isn’t proud of her move; leaving Mulder to this scrutiny is not fair. Then again he started this whole 'we’re married’ business, memory loss or not. So he gets to talk himself out of it. He motions for her to bring him something to drink, too, and grins at her. Scully finds that she can’t even be angry with him.

The kitchen feels less crowded and Scully takes a moment to breathe and to relax. She takes two glasses and pours water into them. She drinks half of it and refills it. Her mouth feels terribly dry.

“Hey, little sister.” Scully has never been so happy to see her brother. Her smile, as well as his, is genuine as they hug tightly.

“For a moment there I thought you’d ditched us again.”

“Why would I do that?” The defensiveness sneaks into her voice unasked. The joy over seeing him bursts like a bubble in front of them. Bill, however, seems to be in one of his good moods. He smiles at her, warmly, holds up his hands in surrender.

“Because our little brother cancelled. Didn’t mom tell you? I was hoping to see at least one sibling here. And there you are.” She knew that Charlie wouldn’t come. Her mother had told her a few days ago. She misses Charlie, her little mischievous brother. She would have liked to introduce him to Mulder in the hopes that he and Charlie might get on better than Bill and Mulder do.

“He’s working, Bill.”

“You usually do, too, Danes.”

“I’m here.”

“You brought your partner.” Of course. It always came down to Mulder.

“I did, yes. He’s my friend.”

“That’s not what mom said.”

“What did mom say?” She could guess, though. In an attempt to hide the blush creeping up on her, Scully took another sip from her water.

“She said that you and Mulder were an, how did she put it? An item. Married, she said. But it was all hush, hush because of your work.” Oh no. Leave it to her mother to believe the words of an injured Mulder over her own daughter’s.

“We’re not married, Bill. Mulder and I are friends.” Friends who made out not too long ago, her mind chides, intensifying her blush.

“Whatever you say, Danes.” Bill laughs.

“You’re taking the news pretty well.”

“So you admit it!”

“No! I mean hypothetically speaking, you’re not angry. I thought you didn’t like Mulder.” He shrugs, looking everywhere but at her. So her mother and Tara must have talked to him. Yelled at him, more likely. The thought makes her smile.

“Thank you, Bill,” Scully gets on tiptoe to kiss her brother’s cheek, “but you’ve got nothing to worry about. Mulder has had a head injury and he thinks we’re married. We’re not. Mom told me to go along with it and well, Mulder blabbed. But really, we’re just friends.”

“I believe you, Dana. Makes it easier to not completely hate on the guy.”

*

When Scully returns to the living room, it’s eerily quiet. There’s only Mulder’s voice. He doesn’t see her, his back is turned to her. But this scene, along with his words, burns its way into her heart, deep into her soul.

“I knew it had to be perfect. You see, Dana has uhm… I’m far from perfect. I run after my ideas, follow them wherever they lead me. I knew I had to think this through. I told her there was a lead and that it was vital we get there before morning-”

“You follow leads in the middle of the night?” One of her cousins asks and Scully almost giggles. Not your average 9 to 5 job.

“It’s so romantic!” A younger girl swoons, staring up at Mulder with big eyes.

“Yeah. We don’t always work regular hours… anyway, I drove out of the city, because you can’t really see the stars in the city. Sc- Dana pestered me with questions about this completely made up case because that’s just how she is. Never just accepts thing. She has to analyze them, you know.” He pauses and Scully finds herself holding her breath. She doesn’t want him to know she’s back. She wants to hear this story. The story of another them. A them that can’t be.

“I knew where I wanted to go, of course. There’s this hill where when you lie down on the ground you feel like the stars might swallow you whole. I knew it had to be this place. I made her get out of the car, which she lamented. 'What are we doing here, Mulder’ and 'I hope we’re not meeting your source here’ followed us into the night,” he elicits soft chuckles with his imitation of her; Scully finds herself smiling despite herself, “then finally I have her where I want her. But she wasn’t listening to me. I told her to sit down and look at the stars. She didn’t. So I begged her to sit down and please look at the stars. Now what she did? She turned on her heels to go back to the car! I jumped up and followed her. I couldn’t let her get away now. I had this great plan, damn it. She was angry, which was to be expected. She still didn’t listen to me. I stood there and listened to her instead. Then when she finally took a breath, I just asked her. I asked her if she wanted to be my wife.” He stops and Scully is certain that now everyone is holding their breath.

“What did she say?” That’s Aunt Lily. She’s never been patient.

“She said yes!” Mulder exclaims and suddenly everyone is clapping and cheering him on.

“You’re a lucky woman, Dana.” Scully startles when she hears her name. Mulder turns around, too, looks at her. There’s happiness on his face, hidden in every wrinkle and laugh line. And there’s something else, written in bold letters: Love. She doesn’t have time to move or even react when Mulder walks over to her though she swears he’s doing it in slow motion. He stops right in front of her, takes one, then the other glass of water from her hands. He lowers his head and kisses her cheek, his lips lingering a moment too long on her skin.

“Thank you.” He whispers into her ear, leaving another kiss and thousands of little goose bumps that spread over her neck, her arms, everywhere. He stands close to her as he finishes first one glass and then the other.

“Mulder, are you all right?” Scully asks when Mulder’s grin suddenly transforms into a grimace.

“My back hurts.” He tells her.

“I already gave you the full dose of painkillers, Mulder. You have to wait another four hours.” The pout makes a comeback.

“It really hurts, Scully.”

“I believe you, Mulder. There’s just nothing I can do.”

“Massages help, dear.” Aunt Lily appears by their side and she nudges her niece. “Go help your man.” She winks at them and then disappears into the kitchen.

“That did not just happen.” Scully mumbles. None of what has taken place in his house today seems real. A dream. A nice, wholesome dream. Mulder tugs at her hand almost impatiently.

“A massage sounds nice, Scully.”

*

Dana Scully is a medical doctor. A naked body is just that: a naked body. Skin, muscles and bones. She’s seen this particular body in various stages of undress. This, Mulder shirtless, is nothing new or special. You’d think.

He’s laying on his stomach, grumbling and cursing. Those sounds turn into sighs and moans of appreciation as soon as Scully sits on his jeans-clad butt and puts her hands on his soft, warm skin. She rubs the baby oil – thank you, Tara and Matthew – into his skin trying to ignore his radiant heat, the feel of his skin. Don’t think of this as Mulder, she tells herself. It’s just a body. Just a very healthy, very firm, very lovely body.

“Scully, you’re so good at this.” A body that speaks like a sex god. She has to drown out his voice and the tiny, sexy noises he’s making.

“Hmm, I feel so much better already.” She should have seen it coming. Maybe she would have had she not been trying so hard to concentrate. In a quick move, he turns them around so that he’s over her, hovering and grinning.

“Mulder, what-” His lips cut her off. His mouth moves against hers expertly. Her eyes drift close and she feels herself give in as his tongue starts teasing her, trying to slip past her lips.

“Mulder…” It’s supposed to be a protest, but it comes out as a moan. Scully lets herself enjoy the feel of him against her for another second, or ten, before she gently pushes at him.

“I’m feeling better, Scully.” He tells her.

“I can see that… and well, feel it.” Mulder blushes and moves off her. He lies on his side and draws her closer, his hand caressing her hip and sneaking upwards.

“Mulder, stop. We can’t.”

“Why not?” She stares at him. Why not, indeed. Because all of this is a lie; we’re not married. We’re not even a couple. We’re friends and you have amnesia, or whatever it is that causes you to believe we’re man and wife. She says none of these things. She pats his cheek and gets up.

“Where you’re going?”

“To wash my hands. Put on a shirt, Mulder.” He groans but she sees him get up, too, out of the corner of her eyes.

Scully takes a long time to wash the baby oil off her hands. She needs to tell Mulder the truth, make him understand that this is not real. That whatever he believes is just in his head. She catches her expression in the mirror. Her hair is tousled, her pupils dilated. Yes, she wants Mulder. But not like this. She thinks back to what he told her family about their engagement. A beautiful story, but nothing more. A story, a dream. Not real. 

“Scully, I need your help.” She turns off the water and joins Mulder back in her room.

“What the…” Scully can’t stop the bubbling laugh that cuts off her words as soon as she sees Mulder. Her partner, who will move heaven and earth to find her in Antarctica, who jumps on trains and comes home without a scratch on him. Her partner, who from the looks of it, is unable to put a shirt on by himself. 

“It’s not funny!” Mulder complains wrestling with the garment, but Scully’s laughing, tears streaming down her face, unable to stop herself. “Help me, please.” Controlling her laughter, Scully walks over to Mulder standing in the middle of the room like a lost puppy.

“Sit on the bed.”

“Where is the bed?” Scully gently pushes him towards it.

“Mulder, why were you trying to wear my t-shirt?” Her giggles get in the way of trying to free Mulder from the tight grip that her shirt has on him. He does look rather cute, she has to admit.

“I didn’t mean to. It has the same color as mine.”

“You were wearing a blue shirt. This one’s black.”

“Oh. Just help me get it off, please.” Scully pulls at it and it hardly budges. Mulder sighs, then squeaks when she accidentally grabs his hair. The shirt rips at the neck but finally comes off. Scully is panting, still grinning at him, and Mulder, his hair spiked and tousled, grins back. Every doubt she’s had, every voice that’s telling her that she should not take advantage of Mulder’s state, disappears from her mind. Puff, it’s gone. What a neat trick. She throws herself at him, devours his mouth. Mulder attempts to say something but gives up and puts his mouth to better use. Scully’s hands get bolder. She runs them over his chest, pinches his nipples and is rewarded with a deep moan. She feels his hands on her back searching for the hem of her shirt to take it off. She entangles herself from him for just a moment to help him. They smile at each other, giggle. A moment later, they’re back at it again.

Mulder’s hand fiddles with her bra clasp when Scully hears a noise. Her brain otherwise occupied doesn’t make the connection fast enough. The door opens with a loud creak, no one has ever thought about oiling it, and there are Scully’s mother, her brother and… Skinner?“

"Sir?” Scully shrieks, using Mulder to shield her.

“Oh, I knew it!” Maggie Scully claps her hands together.

“Friends, huh?” Bill Scully mumbles, his face so grim that Mulder swallows hard.

“Uhm…” Mulder, who always knows what to say, seems speechless. “I didn’t know you were coming, Sir.”

“I was invited.” Their boss is trying not to look at them and Scully wants to scream at everyone to just get out and leave them alone.

“I think we should give the children a moment to compose themselves.” Mrs. Scully saves them. Judging by the excited gleam in her mother’s eyes, Scully thinks she’s already planning a real wedding. “Don’t be too long.” She sing-songs before she ushers the other two men out and closes the door.

“What are we going to do now, Mulder?” Scully hides her face in the pillows. It smells like Mulder.

“We’re going to get dressed and go downstairs. What’s the big deal?” Right. It’s not a big deal for Mulder because he doesn’t know that they’re just partners. Friends. But not friends who make out. In front of their boss. She can deal with her mother, and even Bill, but Skinner saw them, too. Why did her mother invite him anyway? First things first, she decides.

“Mulder, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Oh oh.”

“We’re not married.”

“You already made that joke this morning.”

“It’s not a joke. We’re not married. I don’t know what happened to your head when you fell but Mulder, we’re not married. We’re not even a couple. I mean recent evens indicate that things might be changing but… we’re not… we’re friends.” Mulder is quiet. Much too quiet. It’s never a good sign when he suddenly shuts down. He’s not looking at her, but his hand is still on her hip. A new favorite place of his, she thinks, and finds that she likes it.

“Maybe we should go back to the hospital, have your head checked again. Today was wonderful. The things you said earlier, Mulder… part of me wishes we could continue like this, and I knew I shouldn’t have thrown caution to the wind, but here we are. It’s not real, Mulder. This,” she gestures between them, “it’s not real. We need to get to the root of the problem and I can’t do that. I think going back to the hospital is our best option.” She sounds clinical, detached and it shoots tears into her eyes. If they hadn’t been interrupted… she doesn’t want to think about it.

“No, Scully.”

“Mulder, yes. I know you think that-”

“No, I really don’t have to be checked out again. I know we’re not married.”

“What?”

“I know. I remembered a while ago.” And didn’t tell her. Of course. Anger rises up inside of her and she instinctively moves away from him.

“But you…”

“Scully… I wanted it to be real. That’s why I didn’t tell you. I wanted to be pretend that we’re more than… more than friends.”

“When did you…” Before or after the proposal story, she doesn’t add. She can’t. Her throat feels too tight. Mulder, however, hears her unspoken question. His smile is sad, but there is a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

“Your Aunt Lily. When she talked to you, something in me clicked. Or maybe it was the way you looked. That’s when I remembered.”

“That proposal story…”

“Yeah, I made it up.” And he’s proud of it.

“I liked it.” Scully admits. She wants to be angry with him, she really does, but the feeling fizzles out, leaving a raw vulnerability in its place. When he told that story, he knew it wasn’t real. Yet, he told it like it had happened. As if it were something he wanted to have happened. That tells her everything she needs to know.

“Yeah? I’m glad. I guess I have to come up with a new one, huh?” Her heart beats faster, way too fast. A proposal. A real one. One day, maybe.

“I guess you do.” She seals their fate by leaning over to kiss him. It’s a gentle kiss this time, devoid of haste; they have all the time in the world starting this weekend.

“What are we gonna tell Skinner?” Mulder mumbles against her lips, his hands starting to wander again. They should get dressed, get downstairs, but Scully can’t let go, needs more of Mulder, of his taste and his touch.

“I’m pretty sure that my mother is explaining to him right now. And inviting him to our real wedding.” They swallow each other’s laughter, closing their eyes, giving in. Suddenly Mulder breaks the kiss, his eyes big; it’s his I just had a brilliant idea face.

“Scully, I haven’t even told you yet!”

“Told me what?” She doesn’t want to talk. She wants to kiss him and never stop. Knowing very well that if they’re not downstairs in five minutes someone will come upstairs and it will not be pretty.

“Why this whole thing happened in the first place.” Now she’s listening.

“There’s this UFO-shaped thing in your mother’s kitchen, Scully. I still don’t know what it is.”

“That’s what made you get on that chair and fall?”

“Mulder, it’s a cookie jar.”

“A cookie jar? Are you sure?”

“I’m very sure because I’m the one who gave it to her.” Scully tries to catch his lips again, but he won’t let her.

“You gave your mother a cookie jar in the form of a UFO?” His voice is full of amazement and love.

“Mulder, I promise you that if you let me kiss you now for another five minutes, I will personally make sure that you get a good look at that cookie jar.” He mouths a thank you and his mouth is back on hers where it belongs.


End file.
